


By the Terrace Door

by Beth51276, Caedmon, RishiDiams



Series: Advent [22]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Regency, Ball, Christmas Party, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-22
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-09-11 03:31:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8952223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beth51276/pseuds/Beth51276, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caedmon/pseuds/Caedmon, https://archiveofourown.org/users/RishiDiams/pseuds/RishiDiams
Summary: He made his way to the side of the ballroom that would afford him the best view of the entrance plus allow him quick access to her once she arrived. He’d limited the number of eligible bachelors on the guest list as best he could, but he was still hosting a small army of marriage-minded men and it grated.


  His Rose must be protected from vermin like that.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Please enjoy this teaser from Leather Fetish's upcoming project, a Regency AU. 
> 
> Day 22 of ['Advent'.](http://archiveofourown.org/series/596995)

One of the benefits of being above the average height was the ability to scan a room quickly and effectively. The fact that his quarry had brilliant, champagne blonde hair would make it that much easier to spot her. A cursory glance around the gathering of people in his ballroom told him that Rose hadn’t come down yet, however, and he relaxed a little. She would be here soon. 

With that thought in mind, he made his way to the side of the ballroom that would afford him the best view of the entrance plus allow him quick access to her once she arrived. He’d limited the number of eligible bachelors on the guest list as best he could, but he was still hosting a small army of marriage-minded men and it grated. His Rose must be protected from vermin like that. 

The corollary to those bachelors was a sea of young women wrapped in pastel ballgowns, most of them as dull as the colors they wore, and their mothers, as shrewd as their daughters were simple. An unfortunate side effect of being the host of this particular holiday entertainment was that each of those mothers and daughters felt it necessary to speak with him in the hopes that he might take an interest. 

_When pigs flew._

“Your Grace...”

John turned around and came face to face with Lady Nerys Ponsonby. He knew her to be one of Donna’s friends -- although that might be stretching the term -- and a few years older than his sister. 

“Lady Nerys.” He took her hand and bowed over it, observing the niceties he hated so much. “Charmed.”

“I don’t believe you’ve met my daughter,” Nerys said, roughly pushing a young woman forward. 

_No, and I have no interest to._

“I’m afraid you’re right; I haven’t had the pleasure.”

“Agnes, this is the Duke of Barrow. Your Grace, my daughter, Agnes.”

The girl in front of him had been shoved into an ill-fitting pink gown, her hair done up with curls poking out every which way. He supposed it was meant to look stylish, but he thought she just looked ridiculous. 

Nothing like his Rose.

She sank into a curtsey, and he gave a bow as courtesy dictated. “A pleasure. Welcome to my home.”

“Oh, the pleasure's all mine,” she gushed. Her mother elbowed her covertly. “I mean, thank you, Your Grace.”

And so it went for what seemed like an eternity. As soon as he stepped away from one group, another took their place. He managed to avoid agreeing to dance with any of the insipid young women that were presented to him, but knew that he’d likely not escape that fate all night. He breathed a sigh of relief when the crowd of eligible women dried up and he was left alone. For the moment.

It was lucky that John was in a conversation with Jack when Rose finally made her appearance. As had become usual, he felt his heart gallop within his chest when he caught sight of her. Jack followed his steady gaze and, when the other man saw the object of John’s scrutiny, clapped him on the arm with a knowing grin. 

John took this dismissal for the blessing it was and set out across the floor towards her, doing his best not to appear rushed. She caught sight of him when he was halfway there and he was gratified to see her breath hitch, her bottom lip going between her teeth. 

He was counting the minutes until he could have it between his own teeth again. 

“Miss Tyler,” he said cordially, holding his hand out to her. She lay her hand delicately in his and he bowed over it, keeping his eyes locked on hers. People were watching them; he knew that this interaction was of great interest, and he did his best to keep the heat out of his gaze. He guessed from her flushed cheeks and wide eyes that he’d done a poor job. 

“Your Grace,” she said, giving him a little curtsey. He took advantage of the opportunity to sneak a glance at her decolletage where the tops of her breasts were on display. He felt his brows contract at the thought that any other man might dare to gaze at her breasts, but there was nothing he could do about it now. He’d promised.

“A lovely color for you,” he remarked idly, indicating the dress. “Red is a daring choice for a young lady in her first season.”

Rose’s eyes widened and she stammered a bit. “I thought it festive,” she said almost defensively, softening when she saw no censure in his eyes. 

“It’s quite becoming,” John told her, still holding her hand and knowing he was pushing the boundaries of decency. He needed to stop. Now. 

He caught sight of some other young bucks looking at her speculatively and requested her dance card. Once he had written his name in the spaces beside two dances (and thoroughly cursed the rules that said he couldn’t claim more), he took her hand again and bowed over it, leaning slightly closer than was proper.

“Meet me by the terrace door in ten minutes,” he murmured before placing a kiss to her knuckles. When he looked up and met her eyes, she gave him a tiny nod, indicating that she understood. He nodded back. 

Good. A plan. He would steal a few moments with her, and the thought made the blood fizz in his veins. 

He stood, giving her one more look that felt heated in his own eyes, and moved away to await her arrival by the terrace door.


End file.
